Sunday Afternoon

A strong spring breeze

Fluttered the white curtains of an open window

Sending the rays of a noonday sun

to brighten the room with a raspberry hue

Saturating it in honeysuckle scent

Read and discarded

The Sunday paper scattered across the wood floor

Suddenly a page takes flight, gracefully falling

Contrary with the  soft sounds of smooth jazz

Soiled dishes and abandon coffee

waits on the nightstand

Beside an unmade bed

On the littered floor

a bead of sweat rolls

cool down an exposed back,

while in an afternoon delight bliss

Peacefully , resting across  a warm chest in sync,

The rhythm of one heartbeat

Sleep takes hold,

listening to the knocking at the door,

ringing of the bell

Yet no one stirs to let the world in

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